Handicapped
by Eos Forge
Summary: Harry Potter is blind. Hermione Granger has three limbs instead of four. Ronald Weasley has diabetes. Blind!Harry, Amputee!Hermione, Diabetic!Ron. Disabled Golden Trio AU
1. Chapter 1: Blind

**AN: Hi guys! This is an AU of** _ **Harry Potter and The Sorcerer's Stone**_ **, in which Harry is blind. Hermione became Ron and Harry's friend on the train and Dumbledore gives Harry a test to see if he will need extra help. It starts at the Sorting. Enjoy!**

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 _"Going blind is a little bit like growing up. Maybe because the older you get, the more you have to close your eyes partway."  
-_Blind, Page 1, Chapter 1, Rachel DeWoskin

* * *

There was complete and utter silence in the Great Hall. Harry gulped and turned his head towards the direction of McGonagall's breathing.

Harry had not been killed, but blinded when Voldemort hit him with the killing curse. He had been blind since he was 15 months old, and his aunt and uncle had abused him because of it. His green eyes were always blank and cloudy.

Whispers of _he's blind? Harry Potter is blind?_ revolved around him. Harry's head whipped around, his messy hair falling into his eyes. The whispers were louder for him then for a regular person; his hearing had improved since he was 2 years old. He could tell who people were by the impact of their footsteps and the sound of their breathing, as well as the feel of their hair and skin.

He closed his unseeing eyes and breathed deeply. Ron, who had made friends with him on the train, stepped out of the line. Harry's eyes opened and his head shot up and Ron gently took his hand and led him out of the Great Hall. Ron's steps struck the floor with his heels, then while he rolled towards the toes, his arch lightly collapsing inward and absorbing the impact.

Ron led him to a bend to a wall. "What happened back there?" he asked, as Harry heard the remainder of the students getting sorted.

"I panicked. I totally panicked. There was too much noise…" Harry said, as he turned his head in the direction of Ron's voice. "I rely on sound and touch and sometimes smell to learn about people and my environment, slowly. And this… this is too much sensory information at one time for me to handle. I just can't absorb it all…"

Harry looked up as he heard the light but hurried footsteps of Hermione. Her footsteps were usually calculated, but one was heavier then the other, almost as if she was limping; now was no different. She strode up to them with matter-of-fact footsteps and gripped his shoulder. "Harry, calm down. You'll be okay," she soothed.

"Thanks guys," he said, his sightless eyes focused on his two friends eerily. They both smiled.

"We're smiling, Harry," Hermione said. "Relax."

Harry did and he smiled. Then he felt the vibrations of and heard a sudden boom and they all heard the frightened screams of their fellow students. They rushed into the Great Hall. Hermione and Ron saw smoke, while Harry smelled it. Hermione quickly described the scene for him and Harry nodded. "There's still smoke over by the teacher's table…" Hermione said.

Then Harry heard it: The distinctive sound of a door opening and shutting, and footsteps, headed to the table. No one else heard it.

"Wands out," he said, taking his wand out. He held it at his side cautiously and took a step forward, his two friends flanking him. With a wave of Hermione's wand, the smoke cleared, revealing some of the panicked students and the teachers.

"Everyone, calm down," Dumbledore said, "it was just a prank gone awry."

"No it wasn't," Harry said, and everyone's heads turned to see the Boy-Who-Lived walking slowly towards the professor's table. Ron and Hermione exchanged glances but followed behind the blind boy, taking their pace slow.

"Whatever do you mean, Potter?" McGonagall asked. Her voice was full of confusion.

"This was planned. And the headmaster isn't Professor Dumbledore, but an imposter!" Harry said, stopping in the middle of the Great Hall. His head focused on the position of the headmaster.

"Nonsense Potter! Why would he been an imposter?" Snape questioned.

Harry began to walk forward again, his steps slow and passive. "Being blind has taught me a lot of things. Always be slow, think things over, and listen-or else you could get hurt easily. I'm listening right now; I've taught myself to recognize people by their footsteps, the sound of their breathing, and the feel of their skin and hair, if they'll let me touch them. It's always been peaceful darkness for me. I never saw anything in my life, and I never will.

"So that's why it was so important for me to learn to recognize people this way. His breathing is irregular, a common sign of lying, his footsteps were lighter; Dumbledore has a heavy tread. And his voice is higher, slightly. If you listen very carefully you can hear the slight squeak behind his words."

"Whatever are yer talkin' about, Harry?" Hagrid asked.

Every eye came over to the headmaster as he tried to hit Harry with a charm. " _Reduci-"_

" _Expelliarmus!"_ Harry yelled, making the headmaster's wand fly out of the imposter's hand and into his. He heard the whoosh of air and reached his hand up to catch the wand. It flew into his hand. Harry smirked in triumph. "I may be blind, but I'm not helpless," he said firmly.

The imposter then began to shrink and turned into… "Professor Flitwick?" Ron said in surprise. "Where's Professor Dumbledore?"

"He's in Flitwick's chair, now," Harry said, hearing the professor's regular breathing. Then he heard Dumbledore's breathing hitch. "What's going on?"

"Dumbledore's changing back to his regular self," Ron explained to the blind boy.

Harry frowned and they continued to look forward. "What I don't understand, though," he said, "why would you do this?" he asked, inclining his head towards where Dumbledore was sitting.

"To test you, young Harry," Dumbledore says, "and you have passed this test beautifully. So have Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger."

* * *

That night, Ron showed him around the common room and let him feel his surroundings so he could get used to them. Hermione organized the Gryffindors into a line by their year and told them to introduce themselves and say the same sentence: _I am a Gryffindor!_ Then everyone else was instructed to be silent while the person who introduced themselves walked away, and Harry memorized their footsteps. The three were now sitting on the couch, with the rest of the common room talking quietly so as not overwhelm their blind hero.

"What do you think of Hogwarts so far, Harry?" Ron questioned to his left. Harry turned his head in the direction of Ron's voice.

"I'm liking it a lot so far," Harry said, "but I'll have to learn my way around by touch, so you and Hermione will have to guide me."

"We'll be glad to," Hermione said, and Harry smiled, turning his head slightly to the right, making his hair swish. His hair was shoulder length. Because he was blind, his hair cut didn't matter to him; his hair was long, and it felt comfortable for his hair to brush his face when he walked or moved his head.

"Thanks guys," Harry said, and they hugged him, making the blind boy hug him back and smile.


	2. Chapter 2: Amputee

Hermione Jean Granger awoke, her midback length curly chestnut hair splayed out on the pillow. No pillow she had ever slept on had been cool throughout the night, so she figured, it must have been a Cooling Charm. She sat up and swung her leg around the bed, making sure the curtain was shut. Her prosthetic leg was carefully wedged in between her nightstand and her bed. Hermione took a deep breath and released it.

Hermione had lost her leg in an accident, a car crash that rendered her father an amputee as well. Hermione, however, got the worst of the backlash: while her dad had gotten off with a crushed hand and her mom had escaped the accident unscathed except for a few scars, Hermione's left leg, her shin down, had been crushed. Her left leg was amputated, 5 inches below her knee; she now had a prosthetic leg.

Hermione took another breath and summoned her magic. Waving her hand, she watched as her temporary magical leg came into being. Testing it, she thought about how she had got here. When she has turned 11, a letter had arrived, saying she was invited to come to Hogwarts. That night Hermione argued with her parents about going: if magic was real, they said, it would have saved you so you wouldn't be disabled. Hermione was furious, and her magic had flared up in response. Her parents were pushed back into the couch and Hermione reminded them dangerously that despite having a prosthetic leg, she wasn't helpless. She was still Hermione. And learning magic would make her stronger because it would allow her another method of defending herself other than self-defense. Hermione also pointed out that if they _didn't_ let her go... her magic would have merely grown stronger and stronger and she wouldn't have known how to control it because _she wouldn't have gone to school._ Her parents, seeing proof of this because their daughter had just pushed them and made them shut up, agreed and said they would get her books in the morning.

And they did. For the first week, Hermione practiced on growing her magic after first learning to feel her magical core. But there was only so much growing her magical core could do.

Hermione walked to the shower, turned it on, and dissolved her artificial leg. She took the opportunity to wash her hair, leaning the front of her body on the wall. Her bouncy curls laid limp and heavy against her scarred her back, and she scrubbed her scalp with her short nails. When she was done, she rinsed her hair and washed her body, taking extra care with the stump that was now her leg. When she was finished with this, she recrafted her leg again, then stepped out and toweled. Wrapping hers around her body, she walked to the door and opening it.

Going to her bed, she sat down and pulled the curtains around it. Hermione let her towel fall and dissolved her leg. Reaching over, she opened a drawer and grabbed part of her prosthetic. She secured the rubber slip over her stump and then secured her prosthetic leg over it. Standing up, she looked at her feet: one was plastic, attached to metal; the other was flesh and blood, attached to a flesh and blood leg. Hermione sighed and walked in place, testing her leg. It was good and secure. Hermione then got dressed.

And she exposed her leg.

Hermione grabbed her wand, her bookbag and, making sure she had everything, went downstairs. Harry was already there, reading a book in Braille. So was Ron, watching him.

"So by running your fingers across the page you can feel the dots and make out letters, forming them into words?" Ron asked Harry.

Harry's head was turned towards the direction of the redhead. Hermione noticed that his ears perked up as she walked down the stairs, indicating he was listening. "Yes I can," Harry answered. "It's called Braille, and it's a way for the blind to read. Hermione, I've meant to ask you-your footsteps are strange. What's up with your feet? I mean, you don't have to answer if you don't want to, I was just curious-"

"Harry," Hermione said, coming to sit next to Harry and laying a hand over his. "Really, it's okay."

Before Hermione could speak, Ron answered: "She has a fake leg. That's why her steps are so uneven, because one leg is real and heavy, and the others are fake and lightweight."

"Really?" Harry asked.

"Yeah," Hermione said, idly checking her watch. There was 30 minutes until breakfast. "My leg got crushed in a car accident. They couldn't save it, so they had to amputate. And I got this." She stuck her leg out. "A fake leg. An imitation of life."

"At least it's something," Harry said, and Hermione pondered what he said for a moment before it clicked.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Harry," she said. Harry shook his head.

"Not your fault. You only met me yesterday," he said.

Hermione checked her watch again. This time it was 27 minutes until breakfast. "We should go, guys," she said, "if we want to secure our seats."

"Alright," Ron said. "Let me get something first." Ron got up from his seat and scurried up the stairs. Harry and Hermione, although Harry was blind, exchanged a glance. Ron came back down with his bag and wand, which he hadn't had before. The three went through the portrait hole and out Gryffindor Tower.

They talked about the classes they would probably have. "The twins have told me about Potions-apparently the Potions professor is harsh. McGonagall is strict, and…"

Hermione began to pay little attention to the conversation. Instead, her mind wandered to her new friends. Harry Potter was blind and famous, but he was acting as if he knew little about why he was famous. And he remembered little about seeing. Hermione supposed that had to do with being a baby when he was orphaned and not really being able to comprehend anything really.

And what of Ron? He was a pureblood from what she had heard of the Weasleys, but he didn't act snobbish or rude. He did to his siblings, however; she supposed that was because his siblings were there when he was born and thus he had a brother sister relationship with them. _Of course he does,_ she thought to herself, _they're his siblings._

And what of herself? She was a Muggle-born witch. She was smart and a bookworm, sure, but she knew little about magic. She came from the Muggle world. Would she fit in here? Where there many Muggle-borns? Was she behind in her classes? Would she become as good as a pureblood?

Hermione's mind went to her parents. Were they worried about her? She was in a strange new world after all, and didn't know how to navigate it. Did they think she was doing all right? She was a girl with magical powers and a prosthetic leg. Did wizards have prosthetic limbs?

Can magic possibly let me recover what I have lost?

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 **A/N: Hey! I hope you guys liked the chapter (it's edited), and please leave a review. As you have no doubt discovered from the revised title and summary of this story, all of the Golden Trio are handicapped. Harry is blind; Hermione is an amputee. So what's Ron's disability? You'll have to wait and find out!**


	3. Chapter 3: Diabetic

**A/N: Hey guys! So I hope you enjoyed the second chapter and here is Ron's. For those of you who don't know, type 1 diabetes** _ **is**_ **a disability; I looked it up on numerous medical websites and saw they all were a disability. I repeat,** _ **type 1 diabetes is a disability.**_ **Enjoy this chapter!**

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 _"We have to learn to look away so we can say-the way my parents still try to tell the seven of us-_ you'll be okay; everything will be fine. _I_ _n other words, we lie. I don't do that anymore."  
_ -Blind, Page 2, Chapter 1, Rachel DeWoskin

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Within 10 minutes of Harry, Hermione, and Ron's arrival to the Great Hall, all of the students of Hogwarts were there. The professors entered from a separate door, took their seats, and waited. Within 2 minutes the food appeared on each table. Harry sniffed to tell what was on the table. "Ron, can you hand me the eggs and some pancakes?" He asked.

Ron smiled. "Sure." He grabbed Harry's plate and did what was asked, then put it in front of Harry. Harry thanked him, felt around for his utensils, found them, and started to dig in.

Ron glanced around him. Hermione was reading a book while eating and Harry was blind. But they were still very observant. Making sure no one was watching, he moved his wand aside and took a sandwich size plastic bag out of his messenger bag. Inside the plastic bag was a syringe with an orange cap, as well as a bottle of insulin. Harry's head turned towards Ron as he heard the noise. "What's that noise?" the blind boy asked, pausing in his eating.

"It's nothing," Ron said hurriedly. Harry's eyes narrowed.

"Why are you lying, Ron?" He asked, able to tell by the sound of the redhead's breathing. "I don't like people who lie to me. Just tell me the truth."

Ron bit his lip. What would Harry and Hermione say? Sure, they understood him in a way that no one else really did. But while their disabilities were _physical_ and people could actually _see_ them, his was _internal_ and therefore _invisible_. Ron had become a type 1 diabetic soon after he was born; unbeknownst to him, Severus Snape had saved his life. Ron thought Madam Pomfrey had done that.

"Is that an insulin bottle?" Hermione said, from Harry's other side. Ron sighed, put the needle to the bottle's cap, and tipped the bottle upside down. He filled the syringe with half the amount of insulin he would usually need, and positioned the needle at the side of his waist, taking a deep breath. Then he pushed the plunger down, releasing the liquid into his body. He watched the blood bead as his body worked to clot it.

"Yeah. I have type 1 diabetes," Ron answered, shrugging. "So we're all disabled."

"Ah. How long?" Harry asked. It wasn't phrased as a question.

"Since before I could remember," Ron answered. To his surprise, Harry smiled.

"You already know me," He said as Ron put his supplies away and into a secret insulated pocket, hidden from view. "What about you, Hermione?"

"Hm?" she said. "Oh, it was when I was around 5. Therefore I was always the freak in my neighborhood and the teachers were my best friends. I learned to kill people with logic."

"Ah," Ron said.

"I'll tell you this, though," Hermione said. "You guys are the first friends who I'm not related to or who's taught me. If anyone messes with you, I'll break their face."

Ron smiled. "Trust me; if that happens, my siblings will give them a reason to avoid me. But, same goes for you two."

Harry barked out a laugh. "Thanks, guys. I've never had anyone do that for me before. I'll do my best to do the same."

Hermione and Ron exchanged a "what-the-hell" glance. Harry frowned. "Why did it get so quiet?" Harry asked.

"I'm just wondering why our lives are so messed up," Hermione said in a small voice.

Secretly, Ron agreed with her.

* * *

It was during Transfiguration that Ron found out he should have checked his normal amount of insulin instead of guessing. McGonagall was going over the rules of her class when his vision blurred. Ron blinked and shook his head, shutting his eyes to stop the blurriness. When he opened them again, it still hadn't gone away. Ron huffed out a breath in irritation.

"Mr. Weasley, please tell me the last three rules," McGonagall said. Ron's head snapped up.

"I'm sorry Professor, I wasn't paying attention," Ron apologized after a moment of hesitation. It was a half-baked excuse and he was _technically not lying_ , but still. He didn't want the class to know he was diabetic.

McGonagall's lips pursed. "See me after class," she said.

He wouldn't even get to do _that_ , it was so bad. Soon after his head began to pound and Ron resisted the urge to put his head down and close his eyes. This proved to be a mistake. Ron felt tired, so tired and _he just wanted to go to sleep_. And then, against his will, his head thunked on his desk. Using the last of his strength he got his blood sugar monitor from his bag and pricked his finger with the sharp end.

The last thing he saw before he went unconscious was his blood sugar reading. _50 mg._

His blood sugar was too low.

* * *

Ron awoke in the hospital wing. The first words out of his mouth were, "Do not coddle me like my mom does or I will kill you."

"You wouldn't kill your friends, would you?" Harry asked. His eyes were in the general direction of Ron, focused on his throat.

Ron smiled and barked out a laugh. "I'm grinning Harry," he said. "And no, I wouldn't. So what happened?"

"Well, you collapsed in Transfiguration, because I guess your blood sugar was low," Hermione began. She continued on with her story.

* * *

" _Everyone out now!" McGonagall said firmly. Her lions frowned but did as she said, going out the room. Harry and Hermione made to move as well, but McGonagall stopped them with a, "Mister Potter and Miss Granger, please come back here. Go to Mister Weasley."_

 _The two of them surrounded Ron's limp body. McGonagall made a Floo call, then hurried back over. "Okay. What happened?"_

" _He's a type 1 diabetic," Hermione said, talking really quickly. "We asked him about it but it seems like he didn't inject himself with his usual amount of insulin. I guess, I really don't know how diabetes works..."_

" _What's his usual amount?" McGonagall questioned, taking his syringe and insulin bottle out of the bag. Hermione looked at Harry.  
_

" _What are you two doing, why is it so quiet?" Harry questioned._

 _Hermione facepalmed. "We're looking at you," she said; she had forgotten for a moment that Harry was blind._

" _How would I know what his usual amount is? I only see darkness, I'm blind!" His ears perked up. "Wait, someone's coming. It's...Professor Snape?"_

 _Within 9 seconds McGonagall heard Snape's footsteps as well. Her black robed fellow professor breezed into the room, crouching down next to them._

 _"To answer your question, Mirverna, there is no usual amount of insulin. It depends on the person's current blood sugar levels," Snape said. Hermione was already digging through his bag as Snape pricked another one of Ron's fingers with the blood sugar moniter. Then he swore. "Granger, put whatever you took from Weasley's bag back," he said without batting an eye as he carefully shifted Ron into his arms, then made for the hospital wing with the two kids on his heels._

* * *

"I believe you should thank Professor Snape later," Hermione said. Ron nodded.

"Okay. I will."


End file.
